Word: sofa
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Envoy of Charm. When her husband lost his post as prefect in Brussels, she composed her charms and went to Napoleon. He "placed his beautifully shaped hand on my arm" and she went home with the prefecture of Amiens. Sitting on a sofa next to King William I of The Netherlands, she assiduously promoted the diplomatic career of a son-in-law. She knew Great Men in her time, from the Duke of Wellington to Alexander Hamilton, and she leaves a delicate but firm impression that none of them-kings and emperors included -was quite safe in her company...
After a $50-per-week job as editorial assistant to Editor Diana Vreeland at Harper's Bazaar, Ali signed on as a photographer's helper and began to carom around New York. "I never had a hi-fi or even a sofa in those days," she recalls. "I just threw a mattress on the floor most places...
...setting was informal. We sat on chairs, benches and a sofa, or sprawled on the floor in a large circle. Our attire was equally casual: sports shirts, slacks, or dungarees. Unlike members of the more highly publicized encounter groups, none of us took off any more than his shoes. But before the session was over (four hours Friday evening, eleven hours on Saturday and nine hours on Sunday), many facades and illusions had been stripped away...
...right, I'll tell you what I'm really talking about. Last April, my husband shot himself and left me with seven children-and I can't go on, I don't have the strength to go on." She put her head down on the sofa, sobbing convulsively. All of us, shocked and concerned, looked to Sylvia for help. She was silent, watching Frances compassionately. "If you let us," she said, "maybe we can help." At Sylvia's suggestion, Frances, still sobbing, lay on her back in the middle of the floor. We all knelt...
Sylvia saw her opportunity and seized it. The camera swung to Bob, and he was soon talking about how his father had often beaten his stepmother. "Are you still angry at your father?" Sylvia asked. Only disappointed, Bob insisted. Sylvia nodded knowingly. She instructed Bob to place a sofa cushion on the floor, to pretend that it was his father, and to express his "disappointment" to the pillow while he was hitting it. Bob took a few halfhearted swipes, and unconvincingly remonstrated with his father. Sylvia spoke sharply: "Say you're angry, not just disappointed -say it!" Suddenly...